


Date Night

by Bremmatron33



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime
Genre: Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-01
Updated: 2018-08-01
Packaged: 2019-06-19 23:20:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15520947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bremmatron33/pseuds/Bremmatron33
Summary: Knock Out asks Soundwave out for a date...kind of.





	Date Night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Airheart](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Airheart/gifts).



> Hope you like this. Tried not to hit any pet peeves but pretty unsure. If you don't like this hit me up and I'll write you something else. TF summer gift exchange.

Soundwave didn’t often find himself looking in the mirror, certainly not while blind either. He wasn’t a bot who cared about his looks. Even when he had them. Still, he wanted to put in a little effort. So there he was scouring his face with a cloth and some perfumed cleanser. The metal behind his mask didn’t get too dusty but he’d been in the field for weeks prior and the smoke and his natural oils had certainly gunked him up. Slowly his thin boxy digits caressed each and every battle scar. The deep gouges no longer painful but tender. He had to leave some of the wires on to connect to his screen and it was annoying to turn them off for a simple wash so he took his time. He wasn’t in any hurry after all. Before reaching the hollows where his old optics had once been Soundwave squeezed out the rag and lifted the small bundles of dangling wires before swiping the rag back and forth in small semi-circular motions. It was...disappointing to be doing the job himself. He preferred much more skilled digits than his own but considering he was aiming to impress the mech who usually did it for him...nothing could be done.

On the small sofa, Ravage tutted him as Soundwave set his rag down and went to browsing his small selection of masks. They’d all been...gifts from past patrons from his gladiatorial days and a few by Lord Megatron. Soundwave was most comfortable in his battle mask, despite many others opinions, as it was the most advanced but it was also the most obvious. He wasn’t exactly trying to hide among a crowd but...he preferred a little anonymity when going out. There weren’t many of his frame type left, certainly not in the cause but he still managed to slip by relatively undisturbed by strangers. Ravage gave him a disapproving growl as Soundwave held out the two masks he’d narrowed down to the cat to get his opinion. “You know you’re famous, you’ve always been. These tricks have never worked mechs are just too scared to go near you. If you’re that ashamed to be seen with him then cancel, ask him over here. I’ll take the twins out so you two can have some alone time.” Soundwave could see why Ravage thought that he did agree to the date accidentally. Too preoccupied with Gra, the adorable crab had been secretly trying to get in a sweets jar and he’d been secretly rooting for him. Needless to say, the crab’s victory happened to coincide with the invitation and Knock Out got the wrong impression. That wasn’t to say he was ashamed of being seen with him. He was oddly looking forward to the date despite Knock Out’s reputation. The racer was lively and beautiful and the twins quite liked him so it certainly wouldn’t be a boring time. He doubted anything would come from it, almost positive Knock Out was only asking thanks to some bet or depraved curiosity but Soundwave was fine with that. He didn’t get out much.

He motioned with the masks again. Ravage’s glare continued. Pointedly at the more defined mask, Soundwave was holding. He’d been given it for a promotional shoot by the pit house. The molded details looked nice, clearly molded to be exaggerated features of his old faceplate. He’d thought Knock Out might like it.

“Are you ashamed of you? I don’t think he cares about your face.” That piqued Soundwaves ire a bit, only because there was some truth to it. He was content with his mask and the advantages it brought, he didn’t bemoan the struggles and wounds he suffered in the pits but that didn’t mean there wasn’t a tinge of longing. Knock Out was...stunning, that was simply a fact so it wasn’t wrong for him to feel a little disparaged about his own looks. “He’s seen what you look like is all I’m saying. He still asked you out.” Ravage was right, still, that didn’t mean Knock Out wouldn’t appreciate an actual face to look into. “It's gaudy. You’ll look ridiculous.” With a sigh Soundwave agreed and tossed the mask back onto his small vanity, leaving only his old battle mask. It was certainly familiar and he’d hated parting with it even for the advancement. Soundwave carefully hooked it up and clicked it into place before giving it too a well-needed scrub.

Ravage immediately scoffed in embarrassment as soon as Soundwave even thought to reach for his paint pots. “ I can’t believe how hard you’re trying. Are you really that interested in Knock Out of all mechs? You could do better. I can’t imagine how many mechs he’s gone through.” Soundwave appreciated Ravage’s concern but he didn’t think it was warranted. He really held no stock in the night but...he knew Knock Out would be putting in the effort whether he simply enjoyed doing it or not so... he might as well too. Soundwave didn’t see why that was supposedly such a crazy idea. He’d never been opposed to detailing or anything, simply that it wasn’t necessary and there was little time for it. Just like the masks, Soundwave held the only tattered brush he had and the small pot of blue paint out to Ravage till the cat gave in and took them. Growling through clenched fangs. “Fine, I’ll do your back for you.”

* * *

It was sometime later that Soundwave took to the skies to meet up with Knock Out. He was a bit surprised to find that punching in the coordinates the Doctor gave him didn’t result in some docked med ship or abandoned warehouse or apartment complex where the medics usually set up but a bar a town over in a neutral city. There were at least four bars still being run in the city they were occupying and at least one theater that he knew Knock Out liked to visit so...why the distance? Soundwave had to simply assume because it was a party, one that would have mechs from a few sides or simply a great deal of neutrals. Knock Out was good with locals, most medics were taken nicely no matter what side they were on as long as they helped everyone and Knock Out wasn’t shy about taking away credits for his work even if Lord Megatron disapproved of it.

The bar did look nice though even despite the destruction around it. It was honestly a shame the Autobots had fought so hard for the place. It had once been a very nice quaint city. Megatron had actually liked the mech who had stepped up to defend it and had been more than willing to let him keep control and keep them out of the war in exchange for setting up a few medical outposts which had been agreed on. Now there was nothing of worth to the place.

The barkeep gave Soundwave no mind as he took a seat in the back and waited, though likely thanks to catching his insignia, the weary jet did slip his fellow aerial a free drink. Nothing great but better than the daily rations they received thanks to Ratbat’s stingy regulation. Knock Out arrived promptly a few klicks later, a look of confusion blooming over his face as he neared. Soundwave never felt self-conscious but the feeling suddenly twinged in his circuits at the mech's look. Perhaps Ravage had been right.

“Soundwave~ Hmm~ Not to be rude but...do you really expect to go the party looking like this?” Soundwave looked himself over to see if Ravage had done a poor job of his paint but he found nothing. He knew he should have borrowed something new and refreshing like Rumble had advised. Knock Out snickered at the sight.

“You look lovely don’t get me wrong but...I think the Autobots might still recognize you. When you agreed to go with me to the party I thought you were just getting bored of the ship but...I still expected you to take it seriously. We’re not crashing this thing. We’re spying...aren’t we?”

Soundwave tried not to look as confused as he actually was. Autobots? Party? Oh….yes. He remembered now. The new batch of elite guard would be having their graduation ceremony...as well as something festive for Optimus’ young golden bot Bumblebee. He’d asked Knock Out if he could manage to get an invitation and go to the event posing as a neutral. That’s what he’d been going on about. The invitation to a night out had been nothing but a cheeky joke. Well...this was awkward. Soundwave watched Knock Out’s face suddenly fall from its amused confusion to a frown.

“You weren’t listening to me that day, were you? Just blindly agreeing to anything? So unlike you Soundwave. I hope Gra’s little show brought you more joy than this embarrassment.” Soundwave was almost shamed by Knock Out’s tsking. Almost. He regretted nothing. “There’s still time for you to fly back and send over a shifter...unless you do really want to go the party. We could pop by the outpost and...I could manage something. At least some optic covers...new helm, different paint.” Soundwave knew it would have been wiser to send a shifter...but he was already out and the last thing he wanted to do was go home and face his cassettes' pitying looks. Knock Out again seemed shocked but he conceded without argument and together the two made their separate ways to the medical outpost Knock Out was set up in back in Decepticon territory.

It was strange but pleasant to have the medic doting on him. Unlike Ravage who viewed detailing and fashion as trivial Knock Out quite enjoyed it and he enjoyed dolling up others just as much as himself. His enjoyment made obvious by his mannerisms. His concentrated stare, his gentle, steady servo, the amount of thought he put into it all. Things that if applied and if Knock Out had just a little more resolve and confidence in himself would have risen his rank of medic likely to the top. Seeing him this way really was a change from the irritable slasher the mech usually was on the floor. He couldn’t help but wonder where his personalities split on matters and why.

“Would you be opposed to green? It’s very...bright... but I think it’ll look good with the blue and cream. Just for your optics…and perhaps some detailing.” Soundwave just nodded along. He could already barely recognize himself with what Knock Out had done so it no longer mattered how out of his comfort zone his was with color.

Soundwave flexed his new lime digits as Knock Out cleaned the errant paint from his own. He couldn’t help but admire how smooth and seamless everything was. It was almost...sad in a way. So much effort put into something that would only last a night. “Alright, you ready to head off now?” Pulled from his thoughts Soundwave stood and took the lead out. A new message pinging at his hud with the updated coordinates. “Make sure you land and walk the rest of the way. Not that I really need to tell you but the Bots won’t be too happy to see aerials flying into their territory tonight. These little shindigs are the only thing that bring those sorry slaggers any joy so they’re very protective of them. Not to mention Optimus will likely be there. Likely for only a short while but still, they're protective. You know I’m surprised that you didn’t actually ask more of me knowing the mechs that come to these things.” Soundwave shook his head lightly.

There was no doubt that even a mech like Knock Out, who Soundwave only called on because he was good at not being recognized as an enlisted mech could kill an unsuspecting platoon of newly trained “elite” soldiers and then escape with his life. In fact, Soundwave was positive with a well-placed poison Knock Out could kill every mech in the room. The problem with plans like that was there was no guarantee that he would kill everyone. It was too risky even for someone disposable like Knock Out...it left a bad feeling in his spark. Espionage was such a better way. Despite common belief, wars were not won by killing mechs they were won by outsmarting them and making them realize that the fight was no longer worth it. Even if new soldiers were killed or even higher up commanders, even Optimus himself they would all be replaced. There was no point. So it was better to use the opportunities to learn and terrify when the time was right.

Knock Out only shrugged. “It’s your order Soundwave. Speaking of, what would you like me to call you for tonight?” Codenames...those were trivial. “Aww, you’re no fun. Octave it is then. Our cover is that we’re refugees from Yuess. Musicians. Hope that’s all right. They expect us to play but you know how the Autobots are they’ll have their own entertainment so we won’t be trapped to a corner all night.” Soundwave prickled, yes he knew quite well.

* * *

 

They made it into the party far easier than Soundwave could have imagined thanks to Knock Out’s charming smile and jutting hips. A few chatty organizers led them to a corner of the room made up of more chairs and instruments than mechs but still enough to be social. Soundwave already had his audials perked by over a dozen different conversations and Knock Out already had at least half the room’s attention by the time they settled. Certainly all the graduates. Ah, to be young again. Soundwave couldn’t help but wonder how old Knock Out actually was. He certainly looked young but so did any mech who took good care of themselves. He doubted he was that old but the idea of these likely newly forged mechs chasing after a mech quadruple their age just because of his looks was somewhat funny. The Bots did have a habit of chasing mechs out of their age bracket though so likely not as funny to them. As progressive as the Deceptions were that was one thing from the old ways that lingered. Most Decepticons tended to stick to their own and respect in the hierarchy was well adhered to. Perhaps that’s why Knock Out’s presumed invitation for a date had been so novel. Not only was he a grounder he was also just a medic and a presumably young one at that. It would have been quite a bold move if he’d been serious.

It wasn’t surprising that after only just picking up a quartz bow harp, four young Autobots had already made their way through the throngs of mecha to chat Knock Out up. He pretended to be bashful, insisting he had a job to do, that he’d been paid. The young soldiers paid his excuses no mind until they were practically forcing him to the dance floor. Blaster and Jazz were playing their music at the moment after all so there would be no trouble they insisted. Knock Out of course went as willingly as his ruse allowed. It was sort of a shame. Soundwave wanted to know if Knock Out could actually play the bow harp. He’d likely still get that chance as one of the other musicians insisted that they would be playing once the higher officers finally arrived. Mechs with more class they assured. Soundwave only nodded along as he tuned the strings on a well-used dulcimer.

To say Soundwave grew jealous as the party wore on, as he watched Knock Out dance and laugh with mech after mech, would have been a lie. He wasn’t jealous, but he was...enthralled. Charm had never been one of Soundwave’s skills but he always admired it in a way. How perfectly innocuous and yet manipulative it could be to be so plainly visible and open yet perfectly hidden behind a mask. Megatronus had been charming, Starscream was charming, even the twins had there own sort of charm but it wasn’t like Knock Out’s. A charm he likely didn’t even know he himself had. Not one based on looks or presence or even youthful joy it was simpler than that. Knock Out listened. He made an actual effort in each conversation while saying absolutely nothing about himself in return. His life was always a story, it changed from mech to mech but that didn’t matter, no one would ask, no one would compare, they only wanted what they wanted and they thought they were getting it because Knock Out actually seemed like he was interested because he was, just for all the wrong reasons. That was a difficult skill to master, to make mechs think they matter when they don't. That, if anything, made Soundwave...bitter. Even knowing better, knowing who Knock Out really was he wanted to be charmed. To be listened to, advised, cared about in a way he’d only ever been by Ravage and more often than not done for others. He was bitter because...he’d realized he really wanted that date no matter what he’d expected to come from it.

As the night was calming and more personal conversations were being had than group hurrahs, Knock Out returned, a drink in his servo. Soundwave could have gotten up at any time to get one for himself but he knew better. Unlike Knock Out, getting increasingly drunk would not help him. Though when Knock Out sat down he sounded and felt as sober as a stone. He’d had his inhibitor chip on. So when Knock Out passed him the glass he took it and with a slight hiss as he detached his mask, quickly knocked it back. If he didn't have to worry about being the professional one here, he might as well relax a little. “Octave, seems like they finally want us to play. That good with the rest of you?” The band of tipsy mecha behind him cheered and started to pick up their instruments. Soundwave looked around for his hammers till Knock Out carefully placed them in the palm of his servo. “Are you having fun?” Fun? Certainly not, but despite his distraction he had gained plenty of information so that was pleasing. “Good.”

Despite being a fraud the other musicians waited for Knock Out’s lead and for a moment Soundwave was sure Knock Out couldn’t actually play...but it was nothing more than stage fright. The moment the thin bow touched the body of the harp it sang a beautiful trill, then another, and another. Knock Out played like he spoke, in muddied lies. The music was beautiful but much to Soundwave’s dismay it gave no indication of where Knock Out was taught. It wasn’t the dramatic, impactful notes of Yuess played to tell stories without words. It wasn’t the long warbling cords of Vos, written to go so well with the wind. It wasn’t even the common Praxian style, written by starving miserable bots to liven up the mecha of the streets as they relaxed with their allotted fuel after hours serving their function. It made the Autobots happy at least and as nonsensical as it was, it was easy to predict and follow along.

* * *

 

As the night started to creep in not many mechs were left. Most of the band had left and quite a lot of the high profile officers as well. Of course, when Knock Out and Soundwave had tried to make their escape as well they were begging them to stay. So they agreed to stay for another hour or two. Knock Out was the center of attention now, trying to lead the young soldiers in an old cybertronian dance while of course making it as lewd as possible. Soundwave was still with his instrument providing the music but he’d gained a friend. Blaster was drunk and chatting a mile a minute while one of his cassettes happily chatted with Gra who was doing his best on the floor beat. The sight of the Minicon had livened his spirits enough to make it through the extra hours but he was starting to wish he’d brought the twins or at least Laserbeak along. She’d put up such a fuss when he’d left her home.

He wished he could say he was interested in Blaster going on about composition and collaborations that were nothing but innuendos as far as he could tell but again Soundwave was focused on Knock Out. He was getting much better information. That was the only reason. Obviously. Bumblebee had taken quite a shine to him but so had five others so it was quite the show watching them subtly fight, giving away everything they had for a pretty face. Time with Knock Out caused fist-fights back with the Decepticons so Soundwave was waiting for a show. He doubted it would escalate to that though. Autobots were far too boring.

As there extra two hours ran out Soundwave readied himself to leave, fully expecting that Knock Out, with his doting entourage, would be making his way to the Autobot barracks for the night. As he made his way down the rickety stairs though he heard the other mech calling after him. “You were really going to leave me to those hounds? Honestly Octave, a little camaraderie.” Soundwave stopped to let the mech catch up. “If you’re that attached to your new parts though you’re welcome to keep them.”

Soundwave had almost forgotten about his little makeover. He supposed Ravage and the others would have asked questions and likely teased him after learning of his misunderstanding but he could deal with that in exchange for their cause.

“You really expected me to go home with them? Do you want me to? I figured you got plenty of good information even with how distracted you looked. I figured that was just an act.”

There was always more information to be gathered and while young ones would likely have little of value one never knew. That being said the missed opportunity of their date still lingered on Soundwave’s mind, souring his thoughts. Nothing a lengthy report to Megatron wouldn’t fix.

“You seem upset, did you really not get anything good? Did the helmet I gave you obscure your audials? We could go to the bar and I’ll give you what I know? Don’t want Lord Megatron snippy now do we? Not at his favorite commander.” Soundwave was ready to say no. He was exhausted and it was late but some part of him kept him quiet, had him nodding. Soundwave was used to most mechs trying to undermine him, yet here Knock Out was trying to help. It made sense, of course, he had no stake in the squabbles and power dynamics of higher-ups...but it was still a nice gesture. So he agreed. “Alright….let’s get going then.”

As Soundwave watched Knock Out transform and race off he felt a twinge of joy in his spark that he couldn’t quite place. Perhaps...it was because he was getting his date after all.


End file.
